


a little detour

by inamamagic



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, PRINCESS/BODYGUARD AU!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 20:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamamagic/pseuds/inamamagic
Summary: JETRA PRINCESS/BODYGUARD AU!Jane's a princess and Petra's her really hot bodyguard. Why would anyone expect her to be able to resist that?





	a little detour

Jane can’t wait to leave this stuffy dinner. Her dress itches, and her head hurts because she’s got too many pins and too much hairspray holding up a style that took hours to put together. The food is bland, the company is dull, and just as her mother laughs at some unfunny joke someone’s made, she yawns.

Her grandmother spots this from across the table and glares at her, and Jane covers her mouth quickly. It’s not like she’s next in line anyway, that’s her mother, who looks like she’d rather poke her own eye out with a skewer than spend one more minute entertaining the French Ambassador. Not being next in line for a good long while means Jane doesn’t _always_ have to bother too much with things like suppressing her yawn at the table. Or so she feels anyway.

It also means that she can get away with doing things like her deliciously gorgeous bodyguard Petra. 

The prickling of longing that’s been growing over her neck all night becomes unbearable. Glancing around to see if her grandmother is occupied, she slides her fork down till it drops with a clatter.

Everyone looks up. Her grandmother glares at her _again_ , but her mother and father just look bemused. Jane grimaces, bending to retrieve her fork even though she knows it’s against protocol. She just needs an excuse to look back because she hasn’t all night long.

Still bent over, she shooes away the server that rushes to get the fork and glances back. Petra has her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Her blonde hair is swept back in a sleek bun, and she’s dressed in a charcoal grey suit that looks like it’s been tailored to her every specification. Jane waits just long enough, pretending to search for her fork even with her fingers clasped firmly around the cold metal, until - 

Petra’s gorgeous grey eyes flick over to her, just for a second, but it’s enough to send a frisson of sparks right through Jane’s tummy. She purses her lips and straightens up, handing it to the very confused server who did not leave despite Jane’s desperate shooing. 

“Sorry,” she murmurs to nobody in particular, accepting a new fork from him.

A server appears next to her and hands her a new fork.

The Ambassador turns his attentions towards her and Jane tries to smile politely.

“Your Highness,” he says. “I have received word that you have recently graduated with top honours. Congratulations.”

“Thank you Ambassador,” says Jane, sipping her wine and wondering when the dessert will arrive. 

“What sort of career prospects will you be considering?” he continues, chewing on his steak, and Jane gives her father a pleading glance. 

“Well, I am looking to enjoy being on holiday for a few months longer before making a final decision,” she starts, and her father interjects with perfect timing.

“Ambassador, that is a most _beautiful_ watch you’re wearing. It reminds me of a watch I was once gifted by my dear friend Gloria Estefan…”

Jane’s mother winks at her and Jane mouths a quick thank you. Being asked about careers is the last thing she needs right now. She longs to look at Petra again, but she can’t drop her fork again, it’ll attract much too much attention.

She looks at her watch. Three more hours. God.

So she waits. She waits and she waits and she waits until they can finally leave the hall, and Jane can leave the palace, because after lots and lots of fighting, she’d finally convinced her parents to let her live away from everyone and everything. 

It came with perks. Lots of them. Like no parental interference. Leeway to come and go as she wished, whenever she wished. And a drop dead gorgeous bodyguard, tall with a piercing gaze, filling out her suit like some kind of model.

Umpf.

Jane sighs and tries to resist the urge to look back at Petra again as she says her goodbyes to everyone, and walks out of the entrance hall where her limousine is waiting. No one knows about her and Petra, not even her mother, with whom she shares _everything_. They’re close enough to practically be sisters, but somehow, Jane doesn’t think Xiomara would be too happy about hearing that her daughter’s bodyguard is willingly engaged in a breach of contract. 

Petra opens the door to Jane’s limousine, and Jane brushes against her as she gets in. She knows Petra hates it when she does this, because she can’t react to it, which is precisely why Jane does it, because she loves turning Petra on. 

Stoic, silent, steady Petra, who’s so smooth and suave and sexy when no one else is looking. 

_Umpf._

Never in a million years would someone like that end up with someone like Jane, who’s always scatterbrained and nervous and too unsure of what she’s doing or where she’s going to give off the merest semblance of attractiveness at all. If she hadn’t been a princess, and if Petra hadn’t happened to be her bodyguard and in her company nearly 24/7, this would never have happened.

It’s just proximity bias. It has to be.

The door of the limousine shuts behind her and Jane scrambles in her purse for a mint. She pops it into her mouth just Petra slides into the limo from the other side, taking the seat opposite her. 

“Your Highness,” she says, shutting the door and nodding imperceptibly. Jane’s eyes widen and she chews frantically on the mint. Petra’s stares, unblinking, waiting for her to make the first move. The partition of the limousine is all the way up, and there’s no way that the driver can see or hear them. Jane knows this. They’ve done it in here before. Thrice. 

Jane swallows half the mint. The rest of it is stuck in her back teeth. The limo pulls away from the front grounds and she licks over the mint stuck in her teeth and glancing at Petra again. The other woman gives her a questioning look. Then, Jane leaps onto her lap with a giggle, and Petra laughs.

“Thought you weren’t going to do anything today,” she says. Jane hikes up the skirt of her gown and straddles her, and Petra steadies her with her strong slim hands.

“Now why would I do something as stupid as that?” she breathes, kissing Petra hard, her fingers twining in her soft black hair. She trails kisses all the way up her cheek and then across her other one before returning to her lips again. “I’ve been waiting all night for this. That dinner was _way_ too long.”

“At least you got to stay occupied,” murmurs Petra, unzipping Jane’s dress, letting her shrug it off so it pools around her hips. “I had to stand there, trying not to look at you.”

“Oh dear,” Jane giggles. “Maybe we should have you reassigned. Then you don’t have to stare at me.”

Petra pulls away from Jane and puts a hand on her chest, holding her back.

“Don’t joke about that,” she whispers, shaking her head, something akin to distress clouding her face. “Don’t…”

“Hey,” says Jane, cupping Petra’s face, feeling confused and concerned all at once. “Yeah, of course… I’m sorry. I won’t do it.”

Petra’s hand rises and falls over Jane’s chest as Jane breathes. Petra slowly slides her hand down, and then back around over the smooth fabric before she unhooks it. Jane shivers as her bra falls and cold air hits her nipples. Petra covers one with her mouth and the other with her hand, and Jane whimpers.

“God…” she groans. “Why don’t we ever save these things for the bedroom?”

“You know why,” Petra murmurs, pulling Jane’s nipple deeper into her mouth, her other hand palming her whole breast, and Jane whimpers again. 

“It seriously sucks,” she says, reaching down to unbutton Petra’s pants. “How much more time do we have?”

Petra pulls away to look at her watch. “Fifteen minutes. There’s no time for the both of us.”

“Then I’ll just do you,” starts Jane, but Petra shushes her.

“No,” she says. “You’ve been waiting all night.”

“And you?” Jane retorts. “Petra - unless we go away again - unless _I_ go away on holiday again, we’re not gonna get time together. Let me do this for you.” Petra bites her lip and Jane runs a finger down the side of her face and slips her fingers through her hair. “Hey. The longer we wait, the more time we lose.”

“Let me ask him to go around a bit,” asks Petra. “Tell him you wanna go on a longer drive.”

Jane nods and gets off Petra’s lap, putting her bra back on and pulling her dress up, resuming her place in the opposite seat while Petra buttons her pants again. When they’re both decent again, Petra puts her arm on the top of the seat and slides down the partition.

“Her Highness requests a detour,” she says, and Jane has to bite her lip and cross her legs, because whenever Petra shifts to her professional side, she just gets tingles every-fucking-where. It’s just so _hot_ when her voice goes all deep and steady like that, and whenever she turns her head, the lines of her throat are just so - _umpf_!

“Where to?” asks the driver. Petra turns and looks at Jane, and her heart leaps.

“Where to?” she repeats, her face perfectly professional.

“Uh - uh, well, I’d really like, um…” Jane racks her brains, trying to think of a place far enough from her apartment for a detour to take long enough. “I want a milkshake. And, uh… I wanna go on a longer drive. I don’t wanna go home yet.”

“Where would you like your milkshake from, Your Highness?” asks Petra. 

“Anywhere,” says Jane quickly. 

“What kind of milkshake would you like?” Petra asks. 

_Yours_ , Jane wants to say, but she swallows that innuendo. “Strawberry please,” she says instead. “With lots of whipped cream. Nuts. Sprinkles. Chocolate topping.”

“And a cherry?” asks Petra, her eyes twinkling. Jane’s breath hitches. 

“Yes please,” she whispers. 

“A Strawberryberry?” Petra asks.

Jane pauses for a moment. A Strawberryberry shake was the first milkshake Petra had ever bought her, six months ago. Jane had been staying at a hotel and had been hit by awful cravings, and Petra had gotten her two Strawberryberry shakes and had insisted that she didn’t pay her back.

It had become a thing later, between the two of them. Yes to Strawberryberry meant yes to sex, yes to kissing, yes to the rest of the night, for as long as they had to spend together. No to Strawberryberry meant no more for tonight. Whether or not they actually bought a milkshake later was irrelevant.

“Yes please,” she whispers. Petra nods and turns back to the driver.

“Perhaps the detour first,” she says. “Take the next highway, and then we can stop at a Shakers for the milkshake.” She looks around to Jane to confirm if this is alright.

“Thank you,” says Jane. Petra slides the partition back up.

“That should buy us half an hour,” she says, and Jane scrambles back onto her lap again, unzipping her dress herself and unhooking her bra and tossing it aside. 

“You’re so hot when you’re all professional like that,” she breathes. “It is _such_ a turn on.”

“Oh is it now?” says Petra, a slow smirk growing on her face. Jane’s skin heats up at this, and she bites her lip as she feels the tingles spreading from her stomach all the way down between her legs.

“Shut up,” she mumbles. “You know you’re sexy.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” says Petra, sliding a hand up the side of her neck, pulling her closer to her. “What I do know, is that you still really love brushing up against me when you know I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, that bugs you hmm?” smirks Jane, unbuttoning Petra’s pants again. “A girl’s gotta do _something_ to make sure she keeps her lover interested.”

“Lover,” chuckles Petra, palming Jane’s breast and hooking an arm around her waist. “You make us sound so dated.”

“That’s what the tabloids would say if they caught wind of it, no?” says Jane. “Princess Jane and her bodyguard lover.”

Petra simply grunts at this, and Jane hooks a finger round the waistband of her thong and slides it down. It catches on her heels, and she clicks her tongue in annoyance and swears. 

“Hey, hey, relax,” Petra whispers, helping her get her thong untangled and putting it aside. “Move over for a sec?”

Jane slides into the seat next to Petra, while the other woman unbuttons her trousers and slides them down, only removing one leg but not the other, just in case they have to dress again quickly. “There we go,” she says, and Jane’s heart flutters. Competence is just so sexy.

Jane keeps her dress around her hips when Petra leans over on the seat, her leg sliding between Jane’s thighs, and Jane gulps. Petra adjusts her position, keeping her grip tight on Jane’s waist.

“You okay?” asks Jane, shifting up a little. 

“Yeah,” grunts Petra, kissing her again, tongue sliding into her mouth this time. Jane puts her arms around her neck and grinds against Petra’s thigh. She’s glad she’s wearing just gloss today, because the last time, they’d scrambled to get the lipstick off Petra’s face and that had taken much too long.

But Petra’s thigh isn’t nearly enough, and Jane grinds desperately against it, brow furrowed as she whimpers. “Fingers,” she gasps against Petra’s lips. “I need your fingers…”

Petra takes her thigh away from between Jane’s legs and replaces it with her hand, and Jane moans louder. Her cunt is throbbing hard, and she’s so, _so wet_. “Shh,” says Petra with a small smile, and Jane groans.

“How can I be quiet when your fingers are so good?” she hisses, moaning again, but quieter this time, as Petra rubs her clit in circles, and then up and down in quick strokes, but then she moves down, licking and kissing a line to where Jane’s gown is bunched up around her waist. Looking up, she bites her lip, and Jane groans and laughs.

“Don’t - don’t look at me like that,” she says, smiling. Petra’s eyes twinkle.

“Like what?”

“Like - like you need permission,” says Jane. “You know what that does to me. You know what it does to my…” She shudders and swallows the word. _To my heart_ , she’d wanted to say. She doesn’t have to say it for Petra to know. They’ve been doing this for long enough. They’ve had some semblance of this conversation already. The more considerate Petra is with her, the easier it is to fall. 

“But I have to ask,” says Petra. “You might not want me to.”

“Well I do, okay,” says Jane. “Too much, all the time, so just do it, we’re running out of time.”

“Fine,” smiles Petra, lifting Jane’s gown up and kissing over the bottom of her stomach before moving down, and this time, Jane has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from being too loud. Petra’s lips wrap around her clit and her tongue circles her clit, every stroke sending burning flickers through her core. She trembles, her hips shuddering, and Petra holds her back down,burying her tongue deeper, her strokes growing longer, but she also moves a hand down to flick her finger over Jane’s clit.

“Oh god, oh god, _oh god Petra_ ,” Jane shuts her eyes and screws up her face. “Can you switch up? Fingers inside, tongue on my clit?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” smirks Petra. “Anything for you.”

Jane lets out a high pitched mewl at this, feeling a fire erupt in her lower stomach, and she almost thinks the words do more for her than Petra’s tongue, but as Petra licks her finger and slides it into Jane’s cunt and flutters her tongue over her clit, she can’t help but clench her fists and her jaw.

“Fuck, ah!”

She rocks her hips forwards into Petra’s mouth, and Petra speeds up her fingers, slowing down her tongue, and her cunt grows hotter, looser, and wetter. Petra’s palm presses against her thigh, pushing it back as it tries to clamp over her head.

Jane cracks open her eyes. “‘Petra,” she breathes. “You have to start on yourself.”

“Hmmm?” says Petra, her tongue still on Jane’s clit.

“You have to start fingering yourself,” Jane gasps, rocking her hips as another shuddering wave of pleasure rolls through her. “You take longer than I do. So start.”

Petra chuckles, and Jane can’t tell if she’s doing as she’s asked, but she shuts her eyes again and clenches her fists. 

“‘Petra,” she whines. “Another finger, please…”

Petra obliges immediately, and Jane lets out a keening whine as she stretches her out, feeling closer and closer to losing all control and coming all over Petra’s face. She breathes through it, riding it out, letting herself get into it completely, allowing herself to lose control.

It happens so suddenly that she’s barely ready for it. Her breathing grows shallow and her legs tremble as immense waves of pleasure roll through her hard, and she grips Petra’s hair tight, pulling her off as soon as it grows too sensitive. Without waiting to catch her own breath, Jane pushes Petra down into the seat and glances at her watch. Fifteen minutes.

Petra’s fingers are already in her panties, and she slides them out when Jane pushes her down, but Jane kneels in front of her and spreads her legs, pulling the crotch of her panties to the side. Petra snorts.

“You’re eager,” she says, but Jane immediatelyflicks her tongue over Petra’s slick folds, and the rest of her sentence is choked down. Jane chuckles but continues to lap at her cunt, inching her way closer and closer to Petra’s clit before placing her lips over them. She flutters her tongue over it, feeling Petra tremble under her lips.

Petra’s hands find their way to Jane’s head, but as her fingers try to twine themselves in her hair - 

“What the f - how much hairspray do you even have on right now?”

Jane chuckles right into Petra’s cunt. She keeps rubbing her clit with her finger as she raises her head.

“Enough to withstand a hurricane,” she smirks, taking in the sight of Petra’s flushed face and slightly mussed hair. “A princess must be ready for any situation.”

“And so you get to come out of this car looking perfect, while I - fuck…” Petra throws her head back again as Jane lowers her head and purses her lips over her clit and sucks gently. Pulling her panties aside further, she nudges her finger between her folds, but she doesn’t slide her finger in. Petra doesn’t like that.

Petra’s hips buck against her mouth, her hand pushing her head down, and Jane speeds up her tongue, running her finger in long strokes between her slit as she settles down on the floor of the car. Petra’s so much quieter than she is, the only sign that she’s feeling anything is limited to her heavy breathing and her hips canting up, but every now and again, a high whine escapes her throat. 

Jane keeps at it, keeping her tongue strokes steady as she laps up everything Petra’s got to give. She’s missed this. It’s been weeks since they’ve gotten to do anything like this - most of their interactions have been stolen kisses in the apartment and not much else. She hates how much they have to hide, she hates that she can’t just - 

No. She’s gonna make the most of it while they have this. She glances at her watch again. Nine minutes. Nine more minutes of bliss, and then it’s back to reality. Cold fucking hard reality. They can’t drive forever. Even though she wants to.

Jane loves Petra’s slightly salty taste. It’s almost comforting at this point. Who would’ve ever thought that one of the places she’d be happiest was between her bodyguard’s legs?

She laughs quietly to herself.

“Wha - wassamatter?” Petra mumbles.

“Nothing,” whispers Jane, and taps her watch. “Time.”

She lowers her head again, switching up her strokes this time, slower now, but harder and Petra rocks her hips against her mouth. Jane curls her finger so that her knuckle is nudging against Petra’s folds, and she uses it to stroke her slick opening. 

For some reason, her mind jumps back to the first time they’d made out in the limo. Jane had been so hot and bothered that day, and it had been on the way to a function too, not on the way home. She doesn’t know how she’d managed to even get through it that evening. All she remembers is being extremely distracted before basically jumping onto Petra again once they were in the car.

Petra’s just so… jumpable. In every sense of the word.

Petra groans and arches her back. “Jane…” 

“Mmm?”

“Don’t stop.”

So Jane keeps going, she keeps up the same strokes, holding Petra’s panties out of the way, feeling her arch her back higher and rock her hips harder and then she slumps back in her seat and starts to tremble.

“Jane… Jane… god…”

Petra shudders, holding Jane’s head close to her cunt and Jane continues to lick over her clit, slowing down in time with Petra’s hips, and then lifts her head and wipes her chin where she’s drooled.

Petra just lays there for a moment, one hand over her flushed face, and Jane sits up and dresses properly again, finding her thong and pulling it up after she’s zipped up her dress. She looks around for her purse and finds it in a corner of the seat. Taking out a compact from it, she inspects her reflection and cleans up around her mouth. Her hair is still perfectly in place.

A shuddering breath from Petra makes her look up again. She’s pulling her trousers back on, her face totally red. Hair is starting to fall out of her bun. Jane looks at her watch. They’ve barely got a minute left.

“Good one?” she asks. Petra nods, but doesn’t verbalise a response until she’s dressed again and she’s smoothed down her hair.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice sounding slightly hoarse. “Yours?”

“Amazing,” says Jane. Neither one of them move towards each other, because they feel the limo slowing down, and Jane’s heart sinks for a moment. Petra’s still trying to get her breath back.

The limo stops. Petra glances at Jane, who swallows and speaks up. 

“Come on,” she says. “I want my milkshake, and I want you to join me.”

“Jane,” breathes Petra. “You know we can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not asking for _us_ ,” says Jane. “ _I_ want my milkshake, and I want company while I drink it. And you’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”

“I’m not _actually_ obliged…” starts Petra, and then she clucks her tongue. “Why am I fighting this?”

“I don’t know,” says Jane. Petra smiles at her and shakes her head. 

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” she says before she gets out of the car. Jane smooths down her skirt and reapplies her lipgloss before she steps out of the car. This time, she doesn’t brush against Petra as she walks away. 

If only she could hold Petra’s hand and stroll right into Shakers like a regular couple, that would be the dream, really.

But she’ll take this. She’ll take this. For now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! <3


End file.
